


Hannibal's kitchen nightmares

by MarcelWorldsmith



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Boats, Cooking, Crack, Dishes, Domesticity, Food, Hannibal is done, Kitchen Nightmare, M/M, Post-Fall, The soup isn't people, Will has fun, ingredient mix-up, will is a little shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:07:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23858803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarcelWorldsmith/pseuds/MarcelWorldsmith
Summary: Three times Hannibal gets pnwed by "peppadews":"What the fuck did you buy, Will?!"Something along the lines of "nothing, you sissy" could be heard coming from between Will's overful mouth."Out of my kitchen with your demon nuggets, and take that infernal pot with you!"
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 5
Kudos: 42





	Hannibal's kitchen nightmares

Potatoes, a head of cabbage, onions of questionable age...but no meat. The nicest thing Will could find had been a bulk pack of fresh Piquanté peppers. 

"Will, couldn't you-"

"No, Hannibal, I could not," Will snapped as he shoved milk and cheese into the impossibly small fridge, "and even if I could, you would have complained about the quality."

"We need adequate nutrition-"

"Fuck's sake, Hannibal, we're in the middle of nowhere! If I had asked for meat, they would have gone outside and slaughtered a chicken! They had nothing!" Will stomped up the steps to the deck, shouting from above, "If you're that hungry, make vegetable soup! I'll catch us something once we're in open water."

So Hannibal did, setting the overlarge waterfilled pressure pot on the tiny gas stove to boil as Will sailed them from yet another nameless port town. They had only stopped for fuel and something to eat that did not come from a can or the end of a hook. 

Hannibal knew he couldn't expect much variety, but he had hoped for at least a small piece of something red-blooded. He would have gone hunting himself if the Red fucking Dragon hadn't shot him. And then there was the matter of being pulled off a cliff. 

He methodically chopped a meddly of vegetables, lamenting his lack of spices. Even if he could add a bit of fish later on, with just salt and pepper, this dish was proving to be a bland affair. The bread Will managed to find would be a nice addition. 

Shall he add a few Piquanté to lend some sweetness? They had so many, he couldn't see why not. He could stuff the leftover peppers with whatever cheese Will managed to find. 

He peeled the plastic away from the cardboard underside of the pack, tearing straight through the label stating _Peppadews._ He portioned out two handfuls of peppers, stuffing the rest into a clean tin and pushing them aside. Removing the tiny seeds from so many little red fruits was irritating, but it kept him busy. 

By the time Will stopped the engine, deeming them far enough from the coast, Hannibal had amassed a sizable amount of vegetable soup in partially raw form. The rest wouldn't take too long to cook, and they would have a plate of fresh food for the first time in weeks. 

*****

Will came down from the deck empty-handed. He'd try fishing again tomorrow, but he was fucking starving and the sounds of cooking from below were driving him steadily insane. 

"I apologize for the lack of variety in tonight's dish, but-"

"Hannibal, don't worry," Will cut him off, sitting at the cramped kitchen table. Their heads would touch if they both leaned over their plates. "I know you don't have much to work with. I'm grateful because it's hot and it's food."

Will knew Hannibal was, at the most, ashamed, and at the very least, annoyed, at having to present 'mediocre' food. The potential to tease Hannibal about it was there, but Will didn't, and he could see Hannibal was grateful. Honestly, he's made worse food for himself in the past. Hannibal was just a snob. 

A snob who managed to make soup and bread look and smell better than anything Will has ever made. Will dragged his bowl closer, eagerly spooning steaming veggies into his mouth. 

"Oh my god, this is _delicious_ ," Will shoveled more hot stuff, barely stopping to dip his bread in the more watery parts of his food. "Hey, did you put habaneros in here?"

Will looked up at Hannibal when he didn't get an answer, the man's cheeks unusually flushed. 

Hannibal let out a little cough, "No, Will, I did not," and took a small bite of his soup. His face turned a slightly darker shade of red and he cleared his throat. "You should know that we have no habanero peppers, you did the shopping after all," he piffed and took another bite. 

Will sat back in his chair, the worst of his hunger sated, and watched as Hannibal stoicly progressed through his meal. Will stifled his laughter as Hannibal's face turned an ever darker shade of red with every bite. 

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Hannibal wheezed, and Will had to bite hit lips to stop himself from laughing. 

"Mind if I get some more?"

"Help yourself," Hannibal sounded like he smoked three packs a day. Did he choke on his food?

Will dished himself a second helping, "You want seconds?"

"No, no thank you."

Will was getting suspicious. All Hannibal's talk of adequate nutrition and healing properly from their cliff-top escapades and now he won't eat seconds? The bowls they had were so small, both of them always had seconds. 

Will sat down again, his spoon stopping halfway towards his mouth as he caught sight of Hannibal.

Steam was practically coming out his ears and Will couldn't stop his giggle. He dropped his spoon, Hannibal's face becoming more indignant, sweat pouring off him as Will's laughter grew. 

"What did you put in the soup, Hannibal?"

"Nothing," cough, vigorous throat clearing, "unusual." Hannibal was almost vibrating in his chair. 

Will wasn't convinced. He took up his spoon again, "So, why the tomato face?"

_"Ineedsomewater,"_ Hannibal hissed, shooting out of his chair towards the kitchen sink. Will watched in fascination as Hannibal downed two glasses of water, breathing like he'd just run a marathon. "How are you not affected?" he asked after getting his breath back. 

"...Hannibal, it's not that spicy." 

Hannibal turned around, red-faced and incredulous. "I've had some exquisitely spiced dishes around the world, but that-" he pointed to the pressure pot "-is straight from hell."

Will raised a brow. Explanation 1 for this situation is that Hannibal lost his tolerance for various peppers and chillis while in prison, but Will knows the man was still allowed to cook while behind bars, so he discounts that theory. 

Explanation 2 is that Will has had way worse and is what he poses to Hannibal instead. 

"Hell has some pretty weak chilli then. This is nothing compared to what my aunt used to make. That gumbo could melt steel beams."

Hannibal blew out a breath, "Well, you are welcome to the rest of the hell-soup. I will not be having any," he sniffed, turning to the bedroom. 

*****

Will was checking the anchor and engine, flashlight between his teeth as the Atlantic wind tore at his thin jacket when he heard Hannibal yell. He raced down the stairs to see the man scowling at the dishwasher. There was no blood in sight. 

"What's wrong?"

"My hands are burning."

Will blinked. "Are you allergic to South- American dish soap?"

Hannibal turned his scowl to Will, his face still slightly red.

"We've been using the same brand for three weeks," he dipped his hands back into the water with a grimace, "I suspect that whatever made the soup so pleasantly warm for you has also affected the dishes. It is bearable."

"...okay." 

*****

Hannibal was looking forward to this dish. He picked up a cheese stuffed pepper, anticipating the combination of sweet and tart as he placed it in his mouth. He promptly spat it out, coughing violently as his taste buds were assaulted by the very same fire that the vegetable soup contained.

"That is not a Piquanté!" he hollered. 

Will guffawed, his cheeks stuffed with cheese and peppers. He fixed Will with his most murderous gaze, but the man kept laughing. 

"What the fuck did you buy, Will?!"

Something along the lines of "nothing, you sissy" could be heard coming from between Will's overful mouth. 

"Out of my kitchen with your demon nuggets, and take that infernal pot with you!" 

And Captain Will finished the infernal soup with fervor while his First Mate ate canned beans on toast.

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter is inspired by real-life experience. I ruined an entire pot of food that was supposed to feed my student-ass for a week and could not touch my dishes without crying.  
> And yes, the pack of chillis I bought was labeled as peppadews. 
> 
> Hmu in the comments for any suggestions for Hannibal's kitchen nightmares! I have about two more ideas that will probably take place later in the post-fall AU this is turning out to be.


End file.
